This is a wild week. Because I'm free.

Free, free at last. Yaaaaaaaaas!!

That contract that was driving me up the wall? Done.

Some of you saw last week's issue, where I was a stressed-out mess about walking away from something I'd committed to.

My Witches of LinkyLand kept me sane through every spiral. Love those women.

And now... no contract.

Which also means no money coming in.

And oddly? I'm less worried about that than I figured I'd be.

I think going back is what did it.

This whole time I've been building the business, some part of me kept treating it like a placeholder. Like - sure, I'm doing this... but only until someone hires me again, right?

That hum's been running the entire time I've been "unemployed."

Then I went back. One month at a branch of my old employer. The world I lived in for years and years and years.

And that month is what finally shut the hum up.

You know that old story - some guy lands in the new world and torches his own ships so nobody can turn around and sail home?

I think this month was me torching mine.

Not the ship that could ever take a job again. The one that kept whispering this is just temporary, sit tight, someone will come rescue you.

That ship's ash now.

Goodbye, corporate.

Now look. If the perfect thing showed up - some company going "we need you, you're the most wonderful human alive, name your price" - would I think about it? Sure. But that'd be me choosing from dry land. Not me clinging to a lifeboat.

But damn, it would have to be SPECIAL.

Because somewhere in that month I figured out I've gotten too feral and too feminist to squeeze back into where I used to be.

Maybe there's a newer place out there. Some scrappy little startup where fierce, feral, feminist me is the whole point instead of the problem.

I don't know. We'll see.

Anyway.

I went free this week and the good stuff just... started showing up. Didn't even have to go looking for it.

Smidge was out of town, which meant I had the car. Dangerous.

Saturday I met up with a woman from one of my AI communities.

(Yes, I belong to entirely too many. No, I will not be taking questions.)

She bought me lunch and wanted help with her app. Half-built, and not doing the thing she actually needs it to do.

So I walked her through how to get unstuck.

And somewhere in there it clicked - helping people get past the block is one of the things I'm actually good at. Usually it's an AI thing. Not always.

That's going on my services menu.

Still kind of wild to me that I'm the person someone drives across town to pick the brain of.

Sunday I still had the car, so I drove to Saint Paul to play guide for the beginners group at the MN Women in AI monthly building session.

Four hours.

I saw "four hours" on the calendar and braced myself.

It was lovely.

A room full of women, a bunch of them building their first automation ever, and me getting to be the one going "see? nothing's going to break."

In person. Worth every minute.

And then, because I had the car and zero supervision, I hit two of my favorite spots that are too far for delivery.

Carbone's - which is why my belly's full of pizza and extremely happy right now.

And a Kringler from the Finnish Bistro to nibble on all week.

Here's what I keep forgetting: the thing in your way is usually a story, not a situation.

I thought I was stuck because I didn't have a plan. Or steady money. Or permission.

Nope. I was stuck because some part of me had already decided this whole thing was temporary - a way to kill time until my "real life" (read: a job) came back for me.

The lunch. The room full of women. The pizza. None of it was new. The only thing that changed is I finally let it count.

So whatever you've been treating as the holding pattern... what if that's not the waiting room? What if that's the actual life.

The stuff that touched, moved, and inspired me this week. Or made me laugh. Or facepalm. Or simply provided mindless enjoyment.

Levels of the game
A comedian compares the levels of traffic violation between countries, and it's truly illuminating. A couple of minutes, but worth it til the end. I promise.

EU heatwave
Riona explains exactly - in exquisite detail - why she and other people like us are not meant to live in parts that experience heat like the EU's felt the last week or so.

Surthrive
My buddy Linda sent this to me on Friday, and I had to thank her for giving me the perfect video for this week's final shenanigan. You'll want the sound up on this one.

AI knows a little about everything and nothing about your life. Ask it something vague and it hands you vague right back.

Watch what one real detail does.

I'll say "write a thank-you note" and it gives me something you could mail to anyone, about anything. Limp. Then I add one true thing: "It's for my neighbor who shoveled my driveway twice in the blizzard and won't let me pay him." Same request. Suddenly it's warm, specific, mine.

I didn't write a better prompt. I stopped making it guess. The detail you're keeping in your head is the exact thing it needs.

Now you. Ask for something everyday - a birthday message, a caption, a little pep talk.

Read the bland version first. Then hand it one true detail. Who it's really for. What actually happened. "She's turning 50 and dreading it." "The dog we had for 15 years died Tuesday." Ask again. Feel the difference.

Still generic? You're still holding back the good part. Give it the thing you almost didn't type. "It's not about the promotion. It's that nobody noticed." The more real you get, the less it has to invent.

Remember the woman with the half-built app? I didn't fix it for her. I asked questions until the real block showed up, and the next move got obvious.

This week, AI plays that part for you. Bring the thing you've been stuck on - the one that keeps sliding to the bottom of the list.

Don't explain the whole saga and ask for advice. Let it interview you first. The block you name out loud is almost never the real one.

What happens next
It asks you a handful of questions, one at a time. Answer them honest. Then it names the thing actually in your way - usually not the one you walked in with - and hands you the next move written for your situation, ready to use in the next ten minutes. If the move needs your gut or private info, it'll send you somewhere safer instead of guessing. No permission slip required.

The Matriarchy Minute is where I spotlight women doing work in AI that you should know about but probably don't.

This week: Laura Beaulieu

Last week I sat in on one of Laura's free Maven sessions, one on Claude Design. You know the type - "free training" that's really a 60-minute commercial with a coupon at the end. This was not that. It was useful. I walked away with things I could do, not a cart I was supposed to fill.

And Laura herself is a genuinely great teacher. Clear, well-paced, no jargon fog. The kind of presenter who makes a hard thing feel like something you could go try the second she stops talking. That's a rare skill, and it's the whole reason I do what I do, so I notice when someone's got it.

Her actual lane: she trains go-to-market and marketing teams to build and run their own AI agents in Claude Code, instead of renting yet another tool they don't understand. She's a Top Rated AI instructor on Maven, a 2025 CMO of the Year finalist, and around 2,000 people have come through her AI workshops.

If you want to watch someone teach AI the way it should be taught - hands-on, no smoke - get on her list.

Follow her. And check out her company.

Tuesday, June 30 | 10AM-11AM CDT | Free
​Most days, our heads are loud - a tangle of to-dos, half-finished thoughts, worries, and the things we keep meaning to get to. We carry it all at once, and rarely set it down.

​In this gentle, hands-on session, we'll show you a way to empty everything that's loud in your head into a dreamcatcher's web - and then do the quiet, freeing work of sorting it: letting go of what you can release, and choosing what’s worth carrying into your day. You'll leave lighter, clearer, and with a small promise to protect what matters most.

​A reflective, creative reset… and a gentle act of rebellion against the pressure to always be more productive!

​A webinar with Silvia Coco & Deb Haas
Proudly a Miro Community event 💛

​Want an optimal experience?
Create a Miro free account before joining the webinar.

Friday, July 3 | 10 AM CDT
Friday Jam Session with Joy Prompt Club. Free. 45 minutes. No agenda. Just prompts, play, and people who get it. Open to anyone who wants to join in and has questions or a problem they’re trying to solve. You do not need to be in Joy Prompt Club to benefit from these fantastic humans.

Written by a woman with no contract, no income, a belly full of Carbone's pizza, and somehow more peace than she's had in months. Turns out burning your own ships does wonders for the nervous system.

You've probably got a ship tied to the dock too. The someday. The thing you keep calling temporary while you wait for your real life to show up. You don't have to burn it today. Just notice you've been living in the waiting room like it's home.

💜

Take care of yourself, take care of each other,

Deb

P.S. This week's ROCO prompt (the get-unstuck one) is built for exactly that ship. Bring it the thing you keep circling and let it dig out the real block. Lesson 3 of "You're the Boss of This Thing" is sitting in the freebie slot too, ready to copy. Try one, then hit reply and tell me what happened.

P.P.S. I love hearing from you. If AI's got you feeling stuck, behind, or dumb, or you just need a human to talk it through, hit reply. That inbox is me. Always has been.